


And all is well.

by Simara



Category: Les Misérables (TV 2018), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, discussion of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-21 23:52:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17652074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simara/pseuds/Simara
Summary: Rivette decides to join Javert on his walk.





	And all is well.

“I need some fresh air. I’m going for a walk.” Something in the way Javert’s lips twitched as he said it made Rivette pause. He’d asked, again and again, if all was well and his superior hadn’t even tried to deny that it wasn’t. It didn’t make sense. Something wasn’t right, something was horribly twisted. Javert wasn’t supposed to look doubtful and uncertain. Javert was supposed to be their rock among all the misery and corruption. It took all his courage to speak up and look his superior in the face as he said:

“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t think you should be alone right now. You’ve had a very stressful night.” A pause. Then he added plainly: “Let me walk with you, Sir. Please.” He’d lowered his voice, trying to express just how much he worried without actually having to say the word. Theirs was a strange relationship, wasn’t it? Rivette had worked under Javert for so many years that he couldn’t imagine a world without him. During the first few months, he’d thought they’d become friends. He would have liked that. It took him a while before he realised that Javert was too professional, too isolated to let something like that occur. It was a shame, really. The only living being that seemed to get to Javert was that convict, Valjean, and now that man had slipped away again – no not slipped away exactly. Javert had set him free, at least that’s what he said. Rivette couldn’t quite believe it. Javert was prone to exaggerate his own mistakes and this must clearly be just such an instance. The man probably made a run for it and Javert, after all the exhaustion of the past days, had been unable to prevent it. Surely, that’s how it must have happened – and even if Javert had indeed misbehaved, for once in his live, who could blame him, really? Not Rivette, that was for sure. Javert looked tired, was probably hurt, had spent the last 24 hours, as far as Rivette knew, as a prisoner at the barricade. No, this man couldn’t possible be held accountable for what he may or may not have done. And that exactly was why Rivette felt such a pang of worry at the sight of his superior and couldn’t help but suspect that Javert might be tempted to take some drastic meassure.

After he made his offer, Javert stared at him in stupor for a moment, clearly conflicted. Something flickered across his face and if Rivette had previously had any doubts as to what Javert was planning to do, this expression would have dispersed them all. He knew, deep down, that Javert was about to decline and he couldn’t let that happen now, could he? So he decided to be impertinent instead. Rivette forced a smile and took Javert’s arm as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Thank you, Sir”, he said, before Javert could put him in his place. “Much obliged. I too could really use the air.” And so they left the precinct, arm in arm, and Javert was still much too distraught too sneer in response or notice the curious glances of the night porter.  The air was oddly cold for June – or maybe it was just the circumstances that made Rivette shudder. He could feel Javert shiver beside him, but he was almost certain that it had nothing to do with the cold. They walked in silence for quite some time and oh, what a pair they made! Rivette felt a twinge of regret at the thought that, to every onlooker, they must look much more intimate then they’d ever be. How strange that two men like them, of such a similar persuasion, should work so closely together, should know each other for a long time and never even acknowledge their shared preference. For yes, Rivette was quite certain that in this aspect at least Javert was just like him and he had no doubt that Javert knew about Rivette’s inclinations as well. There was talk in the precinct, after all, and Javert had often looked at him with that silent, wistful look as if to say _‘ah yes, there are others like me.’_ Not that it mattered much. Javert didn’t seem to have any private life to speak of, after all, and Rivette wasn’t so delusional as to try and introduce him to one.

Their pace slowed down and Rivette found himself standing on the Pont au Change. Javert grimace slightly, as if only now realizing how closely entwined they were, and took a step closer to the rail, leaning forward with a puzzled expression. Rivette joined him, carefully studying the other man’s face.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Those might just have been the first words Javert had uttered since they’d left the precinct. Rivette couldn’t help but smile. His eyes wandered across the panorama before him, taking in the cathedral and the water and the Palais of Justice.

“Yes, quite so, Sir.”

“I was going to come here and drown myself.” It was stated so matter-of-factly that Rivette almost thought he’d misheard. He took in a sharp breath, then nodded. It was much too late for false reserve.

“Yes, I thought you might, Sir.” Silence. Then:

“I could still do it.” The words, spoken oh so quietly felt too honest, too hoarse, and something in Rivette’s stomach twisted into a knot.

“That would be very unfortunate, Sir. I would have to go after you. We’d both get wet.” That last, half-hearted quip was what finally made Javert turn towards him, eyebrows raised in disbelieve. His lip curled a little and for a split second, a bitter smile flickered across his face.

“No, that would be very unfortunate indeed. You’d ruin your uniform.”

“As would you, Sir.” Javert shook his head absent-mindedly.

“I will not need mine much longer.” Rivette gently tugged at his sleeve, desperately trying to break the tension.

 “We’ll see about that, Sir. You might not feel like resigning in the morning. You’ve invested so much in this work–“ Just like that, Javert’s face darkened, and Rivette cursed himself for having spoken at all.

“I dedicated my live to the law. I’ve spent years – decades – enforcing it and he, _he_ , undid it all in just one night. And for all I know he’s been right all along and I’m the man that should have been behind bars. All these years I’ve been so certain that he, that all of them, were in the wrong but now I cannot stop wondering if –”, his voice broke and for a moment Rivette thought that Javert was close to tears but if he was he hid it well. Rivette stepped close once more and put his hand on Javert’s sleeve.

“You did your best, Sir. That has to be enough.” Javert shook his head grimly, but Rivette continued. “It’s been an honour to work with you these past years and I can honestly say that I’ve never met anyone more dedicated or better qualified for your position. You are hard on them, Sir, but you’re also hard on us. People have started to trust in our work as they have never done before. Corruption and police brutality have decreased rapidly since you’ve taken the post. Is that to be discarded to easily?” Javert inhaled audibly. The next words seemed to pain him physically:

“I was wrong about him, Rivette. About Valjean. He’s been just as selfless as he’d always pretended to be – as he always _was_ – and…” He caught himself rambling and took a moment to collect his thoughts. Then, simply: “He spared my live, Rivette.”

Now, Rivette had long suspected that there was a little more to Javert’s obsession with this particular convict then the inspector let on and the way Javert’s voice warmed as he said that last sentence made it very clear that Rivette had suspected correctly. His own tone grew a little softer as he took Javert’s arm once more and tugged gently, pulling him away from the rail.

“Misjudgement isn’t a hanging offence, Sir – and very much not a drowning one either.” The dark, stoic smile returned as Javert admitted:

“I would have used one of my pistols but that lawyer never returned them.” It felt strange to hear Javert speak so freely but then again: The man had been quite prepared to take his own life; he must have quite ceased to care about anyone’s opinion of him. This sudden realization made Rivette bolder and out of an instinct he posed the question he’d asked himself these last twenty years.

“Did you love him?” It was almost as though all tension left Javert’s body at this unwarranted question and instead of rebuking Rivette, Javert seemed to lean closer into him. Was this the first time someone had talked to him like this, acknowledging their preference without ridicule or judgement? Rivette shuddered at the thought and scolded himself for having kept his distance. But then again, Javert would never have condoned such familiarities before and Rivette had surely done well in not provoking him. Now, however, as they walked along the Seine, it seemed to be quite natural to talk as though they’re friends.

“How could I have loved someone like him? Oh, I might have fallen for him in Montreuil if I hadn’t known who he really was… What a twisted world it is. This man, a criminal, a convict, a danger to society… he might just have done more good then I ever did in all my years of service. ” He shook his head slightly. “I don’t know myself anymore. Whatever it is that I feel for him, it’s tearing me apart. He’s a paradox.” Rivette sighted. His grip on Javert tightened involuntarily. They were almost at Javert’s quarters now and Rivette felt unsure about leaving the man in such a state.

“Will you promise not to attempt any… regrettable actions till we see each other again, Sir?” Javert’s face was hard to read.

“I don’t think it is your place to give me orders, Rivette.” There was a moment of tension before Javert’s expression became curious and he added: “If I asked you to come in and join me in a very different kind of regrettable action, would you accept the offer?” A small, traitorous part of Rivette’s brain wanted to say yes, of course, but he knew better then to give in. He knew Javert well enough to hear the hurt in his voice, the self-destructive edge. He wouldn’t be complacent with this, wouldn’t help Javert punish himself, no matter how much he would have loved to be invited thus on any other evening. And so he smiled, sadly, and touched Javert’s cheek, who barely flinched.

“I fear I would have to decline the offer.” He gave into a very primal urge and planted a fleeting kiss on Javerts lips. The inspector blinked at him as he took a step back, both shaken by the fact that he had made that proposition and that Rivette had kissed him in turn. “I would take a cup of tea though, if you would not mind.” Relieve washed over Javert’s face but he tried to hide it behind a mask of indifference.

“I do not need a watch-dog, Rivette. What I do is none of your business.”

“You shall do as you like, Sir; in the morning, when you have rested. Tonight has been a strain to all of us. You might not see a tomorrow right now but I assure you it will come and things might seem a lot less desperate. Until then, I’m more then willing to keep you company.” He forced himself to look the inspector straight in the eye and felt the urge to kiss him again. Javert’s eyes were reddened but he still hadn’t allowed a single tear to flow. Rivette would have held him, soothed him, if Javert would only have let his guard down long enough. For now, all he could do was to press Javert’s hand reassuringly and cherish the little, doubtful smile which Javert offered in return.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Rivette is the best thing that came out of Les Mis BBC and I just had to write this right after the finale aired. The fic is therefor mostly un-edited --- sorry for that. I tried to make this Javert feel diffeent from the way i write brick!vert but I'm not sure if I actually made him sound like bbc!vert or if I invented something new. Oh well, hope you like it regardless.


End file.
